


Sisters and Brothers, Life and Death

by CatKing_Catkin



Series: King's Blood [4]
Category: King's Blood (Card Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Card Games, Cardverse, Deception, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Fratricide, Gen, Intrigue, Male-Female Friendship, Murder, Poison, Politics, Royalty, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatKing_Catkin/pseuds/CatKing_Catkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There once was a land with three siblings - two sisters, Izabetta and Lucrecia, and their brother, Runey. As is customary in the land, despite Lucrecia's great age and wisdom, Runey as the only male child was destined to be next in line for the throne. A pity that wasn't what he wanted for his life. A pity that Runey only wanted a chance to play his music, a chance to meet people and get to know them as friends and not as subjects. </p><p>Izabetta, for her part, wishes Runey would shape up and get serious. All the same, she can't deny that she loves her brother dearly, and wishes things could be different for him. But their parents have arranged a ball to find a proper suitor for her and Lucrecia, a man who will spirit them away to rule elsewhere, and she knows she won't be able to protect him anymore. </p><p>Unbenownst to Izabetta and to Runey, someone very close to them plans to take advantage of the party to commit a truly heinous crime. Izabetta finds herself completely unaware until much too late. And then, the only thing to do is flee and never look back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sisters and Brothers, Life and Death

            “Runey!”

            Her brother looked up, with the half-conscious good-natured smile that seemed to always be on his face. He looked up from tuning his lute to see Izabetta standing before him, arms folded and tapping one foot imperiously.

            He beamed at her. “Mornin’, Betta!”

            “Don’t ‘Betta’ me!” Izabetta growled. She shook a finger under his nose. “You skipped your lessons! Again! Mother and Father are not happy, and I will not cover for you anymore, Runey! This was the last time and…”

            “I finished my new song. You wanna hear it?”

            “No, I don’t! I want you to promise me that you won’t skip out on lessons anymore! How are you supposed to become king if you refuse to sit still and listen? What kind of king sits around and plays guitar all day, hm?”

            “Me, I guess.” He shrugged. “Course, I ain’t plannin’ to be king, so it doesn’t seem to matter much at all.”

            Izabetta sighed. Giving in, she sat down beside him on the bench tucked away in the corner of the courtyard. “Runey, we’ve been through this. As the only male of the family, you are first in line to inherit. By the laws of the land, you will be king. And because of this, you are held to a much higher standard than the two of us.”

            “I don’t wanna,” said Runey, a frown chasing away his characteristic sleepy smile. “I wanna play music. That’s what I do. That’s really all I’m good for.”

            Izabetta shook her head, her expression softening somewhat. “You’re good for more than just music.”

            “I don’t wanna be good for more than music,” said Runey stubbornly. Deftly, he plucked a few chords on his beloved instrument. “I like music. You oughtta be queen, Betta. You work yourself harder ‘n either me or Cretia. Who cares if you’re a girl? I sure don’t.”

            “But I…”

            “An’ I’m sure Mother and Father wouldn’t mind a bit,” Runey pressed. “They know I’d be no good at runnin’ things! You’re the smart one!”

            Now it was Izabetta’s turn to smile wryly. “I’m not. You know as well as I do that Lucretia is the brains of our family.”

            “But Cretia couldn’t be a good queen. She’d run everythin’ by numbers. Never saw anybody in my life with a heart as stony as she ended up with. You know how to care ‘bout people, Betta.”

            “I can care about people, Runey. But you genuinely love them.”

            He treated her to a lopsided grin. “Which is why I’d be a lousy king. I wanna be out an’ about. I wanna chat with people on their doorstep, not on a throne with them kneelin’ down. I wanna play my music where people can hear me, not hire somebody t’do it for me.”

            “I know,” said Izabetta softly. “But that’s not how life works, Runey. At least…our life.”

            “Just talk t’ Mother an’ Father,” Runey insisted, almost pleading.

            Izabetta sighed. “…very well. But I don’t hold out much hope.”

            Runey’s face suddenly broke into a new smile, and before Izabetta knew it she was the victim of one of his famous potentially-deadly hugs. “Thanks, Betta! Knew you’d look out f’r me!”

            Izabetta shoved him off. She loved Runey dearly, but his tackle-hugs always caught her off guard…and Izabetta hated being caught off guard. “Get off! I need to keep this dress clean!”

            He only grinned as he took several stumbling steps backwards. Her brother’s own clothes were the clothes of a commoner. Straw and grass poked through the fabric and there were rips and dirt stains everywhere she looked “Sorry! That is a real nice dress though. What’s the occasion?”

            “Tonight is the ball, Runey! The one Mother and Father have been planning since last winter? The one to introduce Lucretia and I to potential suitors?”

            “Oh.”

            Runey suddenly looked a little upset. “Suitors. Yeah. Husbands. Men who’ll take you away.”

            Runey had always made his affection for his two sisters…even for Lucretia, who Izabetta had never really liked…quite plain no matter what the occasion. Izabetta knew that the idea of her being married to someone unknown to him…and, worse still, being taken by that man to rule at his estate, as was custom…upset him even more than the unpleasant future that awaited him as king.

            “Yes. I’m sorry. In fact, they seem to already have plans for Lucretia. Voluf VIII of Mountain High has shown interest in her.”

            “I guess I need to show up too, don’t I?”

            “Yes.”

            “I hate those fancy parties.”

            “I know. But…as a future king…”

            Runey folded his arms and scowled, but did not protest further.

*  *  *

            If Izabetta were ever in a position to say so…she would admit that she did not like balls very much, either.

            She did not even like her lessons, except for the more practical ones. She enjoyed horseback riding and fencing and archery…but most especially jousting. Izabetta loved her lance as Runey loved his lute. She was a legend in the entire capital city of Aki, so it was getting harder and harder to find an opponent. But Izabetta did not care who she fought, as long as she got the chance to feel the wind roaring by, feel that moment of breathless expectation as lance met shield…

            But Izabetta had also been trained to do as she was told. Izabetta had been taught duty, and responsibility, and respect.

            Runey had, as well, but her brother had a talent to let any information he did not approve of flow in one ear and out the other.

            In her fanciest dress…a white silk gown that trailed along the floor and had already caused her to trip three times to tonight…Izabetta was waltzing with Ogreous of Dark Valley. There were worse people to waltz with…because Ogreous was famous for not liking parties, either. They stumbled and faked their way through the steps, making small talk. Izabetta didn’t mind small talk, as long as people didn’t talk about small things. Fortunately, Ogreous didn’t.

            “It is a pity our lands are so mountainous,” said Izabetta, as they took a break and sat down. “It really takes flatlands to raise good horses. They need land to run and be free in.”

            “Seems so,” said Ogreous. “Not that you don’t breed fine horses, but…”

            “No need to be kind.”

            “All right, then. Why don’t you send some of your foals home with me? I could raise them properly and…well, I’d send them back. For the right price.”

            Izabetta laughed. “I’d pay gladly.” She smiled at him. “I really think I should thank you, Ogreous. I thought this evening would be torment. And…well, it has. But at least you’ve shared it with me.”

            “I was happy to.” Ogreous leaned back in the chair, gazing up at the ceiling lit by the diamond chandelier. “God, Izabetta, I don’t know how you stand it here. This country is so _dull_. I hear your parents are interested in marrying you off. Why don’t you come to Dark Valley?”

            He seemed to feel Izabetta go rigid beside him, and looked around. She was resting her chin in her hand, and had tilted her head away from him. Her expression was very closed.

            “Oh,” said Ogreous, a little meekly. “I caused offense. I’m sorry. I should have realized you wouldn’t be too thrilled with the prospect, someone like you.”

            Izabetta smiled thinly without looking at him. “And here I thought you were intelligent, Lord Ogreous.”

            “Oh, don’t start that! You haven’t called me ‘Lord’ once all this night!”

            Izabetta stood up and delicately smoothed her skirts. “Haven’t I? How rude of me.” She let her voice drop into the drawling, chilly politeness that her princess upbringing had brought about. “How rude, indeed. You know…I’ve just realized that I haven’t spoken to my sister all night. I think I’ll go congratulate her on her engagement. Perhaps I’ll see you later this evening, _Lord_ Ogreous.”

            The noble heaved a sigh. “Perhaps, _Lady_ Izabetta.”

            Izabetta left it at that, and went to cut her way through the dance floor to where she saw Lucretia, talking with an older man she did not recognize.

            “Ah, and here is the lady of the hour!” cried Lucretia gaily as Izabetta entered her line of vision. Izabetta was a good deal older than either her or Runey, by maybe over twenty years. Whereas Runey embodied the free aspects of life…love of the arts, bluntness of speech, unrestrained shows of affection…Lucretia embodied the colder ones. She was intelligent and calculating, and it was her skills in the games of court politics that had gotten both her and their kingdom to such prominence.

Izabetta had spent most of her life trying not to think what such prominence had cost…

“Come here, come here,” said Lucretia insistently, shunting her forward a bit more. “I want you to meet the most wonderful man. Izabetta, this is Pope Voluf VIII of the Kingdom of Mountain High.”

He was actually _older_ than Lucretia. Izabetta tried not to grimace as she curtsied to the man. His bow back was perfunctory…hardly noticeable at all.

“Izabetta,” he repeated. “Yes, Lucretia has told me _quite_ a bit about you.” He smiled at her sister. “But I’m afraid the real man of the hour has been your brother. Runey, wasn’t it? Where is he? I’m quite anxious to meet the future king of this land.”

Runey had been seen at the beginnings of the party, drifting around and talking to whoever wanted to talk. But his love of interaction had been dulled by the formal party, and she hadn’t seen him for over an hour.

Izabetta’s protective instincts were fired into life just by speaking to this man. She did not want him asking after Runey. He was…wrong. Untrustworthy, just as Lucretia was untrustworthy. No wonder they were getting on so well. Talking to him made her feel dirty and small. She did not want him coming within twenty feet of her brother…especially because of the eagerness she heard in his voice at the prospect.

“I don’t know,” was all she settled for.

Lucretia heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, that’s very typically Runey. Undisciplined. Always has been. I’m sorry, Voluf, I wouldn’t like you to think my brother reflects on me. I did my best with the both of them, of course…”

“ _I_ did my best with Runey,” Izabetta said, letting her voice become soft and dangerous. “You barely touched him when he was small.”

Lucretia smiled thinly. “Of course, Betta dear. You would know him best. And I suppose you would know better than anyone that it’s such a _shame_ that Runey must inherit the throne?”

Izabetta blinked, confused by the sudden change of subject. “What?”

“A _shame_ ,” Lucretia continued. “Don’t think I don’t hear him complaining, and I quite agree with him. Our brother is far too free a spirit to be confined to these four walls, wouldn’t you think?”

She shrugged. “Those are the laws.”

Voluf laughed indulgently. “Laws can be changed, my girl. From what Lucretia tells me, I think your brother would be much happier if he simply abdicated.” He seemed to think for a moment, then turned to Lucretia. “But who would inherit if that happened?”

“Lucretia,” said Izabetta. “You would.”

Lucretia smiled widely. “Why, I suppose I would!”

“You never will, though. Runey may complain, but he loves his home too much to abandon it…especially to _you_.”

Izabetta did not know where the sudden venom in her voice came from. She did not like Lucretia very much, but she almost never spoke out directly against her. Mother and Father were very old, now. Lucretia had been the one who’d looked after them all this time.

But she did not like the direction this conversation was going and she did not like the way Lucretia was smiling. She did not like the feeling that her sister and Voluf were talking over her head, and that she was missing something important.

Lucretia’s smile took on a hard edge, but it was there and gone in a second. Now she looked indulgent and bemused at the sight of her younger sister’s anger. This only made Izabetta feel all the more irritated, but she held her tongue.

“Well, would you mind going to find your brother?” asked the older woman after an uncomfortable pause. “Voluf is very eager to meet him, and even hinted at the possibility of a trade alliance…”

Izabetta bowed stiffly. Anything to get away from Lucretia’s new potential match and this strange, dodgy conversation she couldn’t quite understand. She could pretend to get lost and not see either of them again all night. Whatever Runey was doing, it had to be miles and miles more interesting than this.

“Oh! Before you go…”

Lucretia turned towards a nearby table, where she’d set a small teacup. “Do take this to Runey, won’t you? I’ve been worried about him. He seems to be having too much trouble staying asleep. I was thinking of bringing in a doctor, but until then…”

Izabetta bowed again, and carefully took the teacup. “Yes, Lucretia.”

With that, she left them there, moving away as fast as courtesy allowed.

A quick search of the party and an interrogation of several visiting nobles revealed that Runey had not been seen for at least two hours. She peeked into his room, and found it empty. She found it empty of both brother and lute, which solved her mystery instantly.

She had to search the gardens rather harder, but finally found him sitting in the shade of a gnarled apple tree near the western wall. She found him by the notes he was playing on his lute, the notes that rang out soft and beguiling in the darkness. She saw that he was smiling as his fingers moved deftly over the strings of the instrument. His hair was messy again and his fancy clothes were dew-stained and dirty.

But he _was_ smiling.

Izabetta stood, at the very edge of the circle of deeper shadow cast by the tree, holding the cup of cold tea in her hands. Runey was so engrossed in his music that he did not notice her.

And, as she stood unnoticed, he began to sing softly.

_“Flower bushes grow from the same root in the ground._

_But twist and turn as they grow up and maybe grow apart._

_Maybe once you leave, it’ll be never to be found._

_Maybe now will be the last chance for me to hear the sound…_

_The sound of you beratin’ me_

_Callin’ me a fool…_

_Sayin’ my name, and when you do…_

_I remember you’re my sister._

_And I remember how much I love you…_

_You may grow apart and you may grow far away…_

_But we’ll always have the same root grown deep in the ground._

_And I hope you know I’ll always miss you._

_My sister…_

_From your brother…_

_I’ll miss you bad…”_

 

He struck a final chord on his lute, and it rang out pure and sweet in the still night air. She heard Runey sigh happily…and then he looked up at her, and smiled with tears in his eyes. Izabetta could not say anything about it, because her own eyes were stinging and wet.

“Figured I’d play it on your wedding day,” he said. “What do you think, Betta? Too sad?”

Izabetta wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, trying not to sniffle too loudly. But she knew that there would be no fooling Runey. Dozy fool that he was, he never missed anything.

“I was worried about you,” she said, when she felt that her voice would not betray her. “You left without saying anything.”

“I got bored. Bored, bored, boredy-bored bored. You know me an’ fancy parties, Betta.” He smiled at her. “An’ hey, unless my eyes very much deceive me…you’re sittin’ right here next to me gettin’ your fancy dress all dirty.”

Izabetta scowled at him…but then, her expression softened. “I suppose I am.” She reached over and playfully mussed his hair. “All for my stupid brother.”

Runey reached over and hugged her tightly, leaning his head against her shoulder. “Yeah, well…your stupid brother really loves his bossy sister for comin’ out and sittin’ with him.”

He was dirt-stained and filthy as usual…but Izabetta hugged him back. When they finally let one another go, she was feeling better and there were no more tears in her eyes. But they continued to sit beside one another, leaning against the tree and staring up at the sky.

“Lucretia wanted to talk to you.”

“’Bout what?”

“Some sort of…trade alliance. I wasn’t paying very much attention. You really don’t need to talk to either of them.”

She heard him smirk. “Good ta know.” He stretched langorously. “Hey, Betta?”

“What, Runey?”

“I smell somethin’. Somethin’…really good. Somethin’…kinda like peppermint!”

 _Peppermint?_ Izabetta wondered. Then, she remembered. Runey had a famous weaknesses for anything and everything involving peppermint. “Oh. Yes. Ah…I brought tea for you. I thought you might enjoy it.” _No need to tell him that Lucretia sent me with it. He needs to stay on guard with her, but he’ll trust anyone who brings him peppermint tea…_

Runey grinned at her, huge and happy, before getting up and hurrying towards the forgotten mug Izabetta had left on the grass. “Peppermint tea _and_ you listen to my new song? Wow, Betta, am I sick or somethin’?”

“No, you’re not,” she said sternly. She stuck her nose in the air, pretending to be offended. “Can’t I do something nice for you without being suspected? God, you’re treating me like Lucretia.”

He looked briefly worried…and then he realized that she was only teasing him, and smiled again before taking a long sip of the tea. When he was forced to stop for air, he sighed happily and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yum!”

“Glad you enjoyed.” Izabetta obligingly scooted over again as Runey came to sit down beside her. “…Runey?”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you out here writing a song for my wedding?”

Her brother shrugged. “…’cause you’re gonna be gettin’ married soon?”

“Who says?”

‘Most o’ the guys I talked to inside.”

She sighed. “Oh, are they? I should have a ‘talk’ with them, then. They’re very wrong.”

“I was hopin’ you’d say that. ‘Cause none of the guys I talked to were anywhere near good enough for _my_ sister!”

Izabetta smirked. “And none of those twittering women were anywhere good enough for my brother.”

They laughed, but it was broken off by a violent coughing fit from Runey. Izabetta frowned in concern, then got to her feet.

“…maybe you’ve been out here too long?” she suggested.

Runey nodded. Izabetta supposed that the cold air must have been badly affecting him, because he needed her help to get up. She felt him shaking under her grip.

“We’ll stop by the doctors,” she promised him. “You must have caught a cold, being out in the night air this long.”

Her brother nodded again. The night was dark, but she could still see a faint green tinge to his face. “Betta?” he asked weakly.

“What?”

“What…what was in that tea?”

A feeling of icy cold crept slowly down Izabetta’s spine. “What do you mean?” she asked, desperation finding its way into her voice.

 Runey’s legs suddenly seemed unable to support him. Izabetta felt herself sag as she was suddenly supporting her brother’s entire body weight. She stumbled, and they both fell to their knees. She felt Runey struggling to breathe, felt how clammy he suddenly was.

“I m-mean…” her brother stammered. “That I w-wasn’t feelin’ so sick earlier…and then I d-drank that tea…and n-now I feel awful…”

Something seemed to occur to him, and he looked up at her with his eyes wild and confused. “B-Betta…w-what did you do to m-me?”

The words felt like a blow to her, and Izabetta’s mind began to race. It raced across the garden, through the back gate on the veranda she’d left from, and over to the out-of-the-way corner where Lucretia and Voluf had been lurking…

…talking of who would ascend the throne if Runey was out of the way…

…giving her tea to take to her brother, knowing that he loved peppermint.

“It wasn’t me,” she whispered, almost pleading with him. “It was Lucretia, I swear! She…she said she thought you were having trouble sleeping…”

 _And now he would sleep_ forever _._

“Oh god, Runey, I’m so sorry…”

She could not even tell if he heard her. Runey simply lay on the grass, clutching his stomach and moaning in pain. Izabetta tried to heave him to his feet, but Runey had always been heavier than he seemed.

“Runey…Runey, you need to get up…” she pleaded. “We’ll get you to the doctors, and they’ll fix this…please, Runey, please, I can’t carry you all on my own!”

Eventually she managed to heave him over her shoulder and continue on, stumbling and staggering towards through the dark night towards the distant lights of the palace. She screamed for help, even through she knew that no one would hear her desperate cries so far away, as Runey struggled to breathe.

Her strength gave out when they were still far beyond the border of the lights. She fell to her knees, sobbing and gasping, still clutching her brother’s still form to her. She still called for help, her voice ragged and hoarse and almost lost amidst the sounds of the party. No one would ever hear her and she just could not go any further…

…and then the doors _banged_ open and someone raced out into the night.  She heard her name being called, and renewed her cries for help.

“Izabetta!” cried Ogreous, kneeling down next to her. He sounded just as out-of-breath as she was. “What’s happened?!”

“Runey…” Izabetta whispered. “Runey, they…they poisoned him, and…and I don’t know what to do…” She grabbed at his shirt front, suddenly so exhausted that she could barely sit up. “…you’ve got to help me, he’s going to die…”

Ogreous reached down to pick Runey up…and then a spasm of something strange passed over his face. It might have been regret. It might have been pity. But Izabetta felt her heart clench painfully as Ogreous gently settled her brother back on the grass.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know how hard you must have tried…but he’s cold. He’s gone. I’m sorry, Izabetta.”

It took several long seconds for Ogreous’ words to fully sink in. But, with shaking hands, Izabetta reached down and gathered her brother into her arms.

He was pale and still. His eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open. His mouth had been open for most of their lives, talking about absolutely everything that crossed his mind.

But now, as Izabetta laid her head against his chest and heard absolutely nothing, she knew that she would never hear his happy, rambling chatter again…

Ogreous said nothing as she dissolved into helpless, angry tears. He merely sat with her, as she hugged her dead brother tightly to her, with a gentle hand on her shoulder and shadowed eyes.

Izabetta did not know how long she sat there. But when her eyes finally cleared, she saw that Ogreous had moved them slowly but surely into the shadow of the wall beneath the balcony, where they would not be seen by the party guests who had come to investigate the noise.

“What will you do now?” asked Ogreous quietly, as Izabetta wiped furiously at her eyes. “We’ve found ourselves in rather a predicament, Izabetta.”

“I know,” she whispered. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “With Runey…gone, the oldest female sibling inherits the throne.”

“Your sister.”

“Lucretia. Yes.” Izabetta’s grip tightened around Runey. “She gave me that damn tea, and I didn’t even _think_ …”

“You think Lucretia did this?”

“I don’t think so. I _know_ she did this. But…I can’t prove it. I know I can’t. She’ll have covered her tracks. There were no witnesses. I…just can’t.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

“But what will you do, Izabetta?”

When the young noble met his eyes, Ogreous felt a small shudder run down his spine. He had seen many things as the lord of a country dedicated to war at a moment’s notice. But there was something in Izabetta’s eyes that he hoped with all his soul that he would never see again.

“We’ll bury him,” she said flatly. “We won’t tell anyone. We’ll just bury him. Lucretia will know he’s dead, but without a body she won’t be able to prove a thing. She’ll…she’ll get the throne. It’s what she’s always wanted. But in the back of her mind…that bitch will always _wonder_ …”

“A wise choice. But what will the party guests say when you come back inside without your brother in tow?”

“They won’t say anything. Because I’m not going back inside. You say Dark Valley Horses are fast?”

“The fastest.”

“My Starjumper should be able to keep up.”

Ogreous raised his eyebrows. “What exactly are you proposing?”

Izabetta smiled bitterly. “I’ve heard stories about Dark Valley. A place to go when no one else will take you. I’m never setting foot inside that damn castle again and I never want to set eyes on Lucretia until she’s as…as cold as she’s made Runey. I’m coming back with you to Dark Valley.”

Ogreous offered her a hand to her feet. She accepted it.

“Very well,” he said, as they walked away together into the night. “I very much hope your ‘Starjumper’ is as quick as you claim. I don’t slow down for anyone.”

“You won’t need to.”

*  *  *

They buried Runey far from the castle. Izabetta thought that was…right. He’d spent his entire life wanting to escape his stone prison. At the very least, in death, he might achieve his dream.

After the ceremony, they mounted their horses again and rode away fast and hard and far away from Izabetta’s former home. They rode through the night as the moon sank below the trees, and not once did Izabetta look back as they rode far, far away from the land that would never be her home again. As the wind roared around her and Starjumper, Izabetta allowed it to blow everything away. Her anger. Her regret. Her guilt. Her pain.

Her tears.

But the one thing she could not escape was Runey. She heard the chords of his lute on the wind, soft and pure and sweet and perfect. His face seemed branded into her mind, the fear in his eyes when he’d thought…when he’d thought…

_…that I killed him…_

_I didn’t,_ Izabetta told herself fiercely. _It wasn’t my fault. It_ wasn’t _my fault. Lucretia was the one who poisoned the tea, I just…I just…_

 _…I just took it to him. I listened to her plot and plan and then I took him that mug of tea. Peppermint tea. He could never resist peppermint tea. I was always supposed to look after him…gods all know, he was never sensible enough to look after himself. He was born first, but I might as well have been the older one. And I was supposed to look out for him…I was supposed to keep him_ safe _from people like Lucretia…_

_…and I took him that damn mug._

_It wasn’t my fault. It_ couldn’t _have been my fault. Not mine. Please, not mine. I didn’t kill you! I_ couldn’t _have!_ It wasn’t my fault _. Because if it is…if this is all because of me…_

_…I’m so sorry, Runey._

She’d never see him again. She’d never see that half-conscious, good-natured smile that seemed always to be on his face. She’d never get another of his hugs, which could knock her over if she was unprepared. The only time she would ever hear the sounds of his lute again would be in her memories.

But she _would_ see Lucretia again. If she had to live until the world ended, she would see her sister again. And when she did, it would be only to run a lance straight through her black, shriveled heart and lead her down to the depths of hell where she belonged.

_I’m sorry, Runey. I’m sorry. I’m…_

“Izabetta? Izabetta? _Lady_ Izabetta, I don’t suppose you’d grace my presence by waking up!”

“Mm?”

She’d fallen asleep. She must have, because when Izabetta opened her eyes she was laying over Starjumper’s neck. But her faithful horse rode on, keeping pace easily with Ogreous’ mount. He was looking back at her, and smiled as she pushed herself upright in the saddle.

“What’s going on?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“I just thought you’d like to see something,” he said. “Something that never ceases to amaze me. Look ahead, Izabetta. Take a good, long look.”

She did.

They’d left the mountains well behind, and as the ground sped by beneath her she could see the grass of the plains gradually giving way to wetlands. Ahead of her, the sun was just starting to rise over the horizon, and the lands of Dark Valley stretched out before her. The growing glow of sunlight made the waters sparkle as far as her eye could see, and in the distance she could see a city fast approaching, clinging like an animal to the only patch of clear flatland in sight. The sunbeams made it glow like a beacon of welcome.

“Welcome to the Kingdom of Dark Valley, Lady Izabetta!” Ogreous cried happily. “What do you think of it so far?”

Izabetta stared out long and hard at the new lands ranged before her…and then smiled and urged Starjumper onwards.

_What do you think of it so far?_

She supposed that it would do.


End file.
